Passing Time
by LiKaTaSa
Summary: Why does he hate us? Why can't I be normal? Two rather mature questions for such young children. And even as time passes by, the scars and memories burn into their subconscious. Will these two troubled souls be able to guide each other into the light, or will the darkness clash against it's other half and send them both spiraling down into despair?
1. Chapter 1

Kami smiled as she carried her newborn child into her and her husband's home. She looked down at her child as the baby's green eyes opened and eyed her surroundings curiously. She spoke with a cooing tone, "Mikayla, this is your new home!"

Spirit trailed in behind her, locking the door quietly. He smiled lovingly as his wife carried the baby around the house, showing her every single room and explaining how the appliances worked as though their child understood them yet. "Kami, sweetie, you should go to bed. You look really tired."

"Well, duh. I just gave birth! Did you expect me to start to do cartwheels and back flips immediately after pushing a living, breathing baby out of me?" She said with irritation and humor lacing through her voice.

He smiled and raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, I get it. Now hand Mika over so you can go sleep."

"That's a stupid nickname." Kami said. Then she gasped, her emerald eyes glittering. Spirit found himself gazing into her eyes as she spoke animatedly. He then broke off the eye contact as a sharp pain resonated through his skull. He rubbed his head as she yelled at him. "Were you even listening to me?!"

"I'm sorry, honey." He said, trying to sort his red hair back into place. "What did you say?"

She sighed loudly and rubbed her temples, muttering a few words under her breath before turning to him with a large grin and glittering eyes. "Maka!"

Spirit raised a brow. "Maka? What's that?"

Kami rolled her eyes. "It's a name, idiot. Gah, you're so thick..."

Spirit pouted as his blue eyes dulled with confusion. "I'm sorry, Kami. I don't understand..."

"Maka! Let's rename her Maka! It's perfect!" She started pacing around the room excitedly. "It's so unique, but it's not a mouthful like most names, and it's not something you can find on a keychain!"

Spirit chuckled lightly at her aversion to keychains. "Okay, I guess her name is Maka now..."

Kami lifted the baby to her face. "Do you like that? Maka? Maka Albarn-Domen. Okay, forget the Domen. Maka Albarn."

The baby raised her hand to her mother's faced and smiled, revealing her small pink gums. She let out a giggle and her eyes twinkled with delight. Kami nodded triumphantly. "Maka it is. It's way better than Mikayla. We'll get the doctor to change it tomorrow after a good night's rest."

Spirit walked over to his wife and smiled at the small girl. "Are you excited to sleep in your bed Maka?"

Maka laughed and a bit of drool began to drip from her mouth. She frowned at the sudden mess on her face and tried desperately to get it off, only to end up hitting herself and start crying. Kami stifled a giggle and pulled her sleeve over her hand to wipe away the dribble and the large tears Maka was producing. "Shhh, it's okay, Maka. You just hit yourself a little..."

Spirit sniffled next to her and gathered Maka into his arms as sobs began to shake his being. "OH MAKA, PAPA LOVES YOU! I'M SO SORRY YOU HURT YOURSELF, I'LL NEVER LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN!"

Kami smiled in amusement as her husband and daughter bawled together. She shook her head at them and waved a hand behind her as she turned to go to sleep. "G'night, you two!"

Spirit let out another sob and Maka let out a screech. This was going to be a long and very loud night.

* * *

Cassandra frowned at the child in her arms. She sighed and looked over to the books scattered on the floor where her husband had been researching for a cure for Soul.

She looked down at him and her eyes narrowed as they met his bloody gaze. His eyes were glittering with wonder as he met her scarlet gaze. His hand reached up for her black hair and she pulled away sharply, ignoring the guilt and pain in her chest. He pouted a little, then smiled when his eyes met a bird's outside the window.

She pulled one hand away from him and placed it to her chest where he'd bitten her unintentionally. At first, she'd been ecstatic that he was such an early developer, only being three months of age. But when she's checked his mouth, instead of normal, blunt, human teeth, he'd had two sharp points peeking out of his pink gums. She'd rushed to David as quickly as she could and expressed her fear and concern to him. He'd checked for himself and nearly drove himself mad, spending the entire night reading dozens of textbooks trying to determine what was wrong.

He'd found nothing.

She sighed again and jumped when she heard the light knock on the study door. "Come in."

The door creaked open slowly and her other son, Wes, peeked in cautiously. "Father just left. He looked really mad."

Cassandra walked toward her normal-toothed son and used her free arm to cup his face. "He's just frightened. He isn't upset at you at all, don't worry yourself needlessly, my son."

Wes looked at her with his mahogany eyes before smiling slightly at her. His gaze swept over to the bundle in her arms. His smile grew. "Is that little brother?"

Cassandra frowned and pulled Soul farther away from her other son. Wes looked up at her with confusion distorting his perfect features. She took in a breath, berating herself for lying to her son but convincing herself it was for the best. "He's got to take his nap. You may see him later, after your afternoon classes."

Wes frowned slightly. "Okay, Mother..."

"As a matter of fact, I think they're to start in seven minutes. Shouldn't you be tuning your violin?" She said, lightly pushing him towards the door.

"But I don't want to practice, Mother..." He protested weakly, holding up his small calloused hands. "It hurts!"

"Well that's the price to pay for beautiful music." She said, leading him through the corridors towards the music room where his tutor was waiting impatiently.

"But Mother, can't I just skip for today?" He pleaded with big, sad eyes.

She looked on at him with slight sympathy. She then shifted her gaze to the monstrosity in her arm and frowned. She mustn't let Wes go wrong like Soul. Wes must be perfect.

"No." She closed the door and left him alone with the strict tutor as she glared down at the creature in her arms.

* * *

Maka giggled as she ran into the kitchen. She ran behind her mother's legs as her father followed closely behind. Spirit spotted her there and Kami smiled over at him. Spirit put on a thoughtful place. "Oh, I wonder where my little Maka went? Mama, do you know?"

Maka squeaked and tugged on her mama's dress. She whispered loudly, "Don't tell him!"

She knew full well that Papa could see her, and she knew full well that he was just pretending. But she also knew that this was fun, and seeing her Papa acting so silly just for her benefit was amusing to her.

Kami winked down at her, understanding her daughter's thought process and knowing that Maka was more aware of things than most people. "Sorry, Papa. I have no idea where she is."

Papa groaned exaggeratedly and began to scower the room, looking in the most unreasonable of places. This included the sink, a small hole in the wall and the narrow space between their couch and the floor. Maka giggled uncontrollably behind her Mama and Kami chuckled with her.

But Kami's chuckle was quiet and mostly for Maka's benefit.

Maka was too aware. She mustn't know that her Mama was troubled, nor that her Papa was the cause.

He'd always been a player, a flirt. She'd known this from the beginning, but assumed it was nothing more than just that: harmless flirting. But her friends told her otherwise, of sighting him at the bars and strip clubs, of seeing him with various women more than once. And not in a friendly or familial matter.

Kami clenched her jaw and Spirit glanced over at her in concern. "Mama?"

"What Papa? Can't find Maka?" She asked playfully. To be honest, she didn't even fully blame him. She blamed herself for not being enough. She blamed those women for tempting him. She loved him too much to blame him.

"No, I can't! I thought she would be in the lamp, but she wasn't!" Papa whined, relieved to see a renewed grin on his wife's face.

"I'm here Papa! I know you could see me, silly!" Maka said, tired of her own game as she ran out from behind her Mama to run into Spirit's open arms.

"OH! There you are! I had no idea!" He said with exaggerated innocence as he placed her on the counter and tied her hair up into pigtails with two pink ribbons. He kissed her forehead when he finished and she giggled loudly, wiping her forehead.

"Papa! Will you read me more of the Poe thing?" Maka asked, referring to the poet Edgar Allen Poe. He father has started reading her children's night stories until she'd begged him for better material and he'd complied with things in his own collection.

"What? You've been reading her Poe?" Kami asked, infuriated.

Spirit looked at her innocently. "Yes. She likes poetry, and she liked his short stories too..."

She pulled Maka away from him, cradling her to herself. "She's a child! She's only two years old!"

"She's also really mature for her age! She might as well be ten." He defended. Maka tugged on her mother's ashy hair and nodded vehemently when Kami turned to her.

"I like Poe. He's smart and his words are really pretty." Maka said. "And it's not too hard, either."

Kami glared at her husband. She spoke the words strictly to Maka but directing it at Spirit. "You're a child, sweetheart. No more Poe, it's too intense."

Maka and Spirit nodded sullenly, but when Maka snuck a glance at Spirit, he smirked and winked at her. Kami, however, caught this and growled. Spirit looked at her raging eyes and frowned, defeat evident in his sapphire gaze as he nodded without winking at Maka.

"Good." Kami snapped. She set Maka down on the floor and grabbed her purse, walking to the door briskly. "I'm going to visit Dad."

"Grandpa?" Maka asked with a small smile.

The raging flames in Kami's green eyes died as she looked down at Maka. "Sorry, honey. I'm going alone today. Keep an eye on your Papa for me, okay?"

Maka nodded indifferently and skipped away to go find something to do. Spirit approached Kami and moved to plant a kiss on her, but she ducked away and slipped out the door without a word. He stood there, hurt, and frowned in confusion.

Why...

His eyes widened and he paled. She couldn't know, could she?

"Papa! Look, I found Mulan!" Spirit turned to the excited squeal and smiled, forgetting the situation and moving to his room to snuggle with his little Maka as they watched her favorite Disney movie.

* * *

"Oh, what cute little boys you have, Cassandra!" An old woman said, eyeing the two boys like dogs at a show.

Wes stood, eight years old, in a pressed suit to match his father. His smile was child-like and charming, his straight white teeth showing as he grinned at the compliment the woman had given him. "Thank you, Miss."

Soul stood quietly next to his brother, a small smile on his face. It was practiced, tight to make sure his teeth didn't show. He was happy with the compliment, he was. But he was confused. Before the gala, his mother had given him a very stern talk. She told him not to talk at all, not even if someone asked a question. She told him only to use his public smile and that if anyone saw his teeth, he'd go to bed without dinner.

He didn't care about the punishment, though. He just wanted his mother to smile at him for once, like she did to big brother.

He wanted her to be proud of him.

The old woman eyed him with a small frown. Cassandra caught this and picked him up, facing her with a practiced sad look. "I apologize. It's just, Soul... He's mute."

The old woman gasped. "I am so sorry, I had no idea."

"Yes, well it's been very hard on the family. We haven't exactly made it public." David added, frowning the same frown as his wife's.

To the outside world, they looked grief-stricken and lost.

But they were just embarrassed and angry. Their son was a monster with shark-like teeth. His eyes were blood-colored, a sick red. He was disgusting.

Wes looked up at them in confusion, but kept his mouth shut when his father sent him a look. He looked down at his feet, sending his confusion there, rather than asking aloud.

Cassandra lifted his chin. "Don't look down, Wes. Keep your head up, it's undignified to look down at the ground."

Wes nodded and kept his chin up so high it was almost comical.

Soul put his small arms around his mother's neck, seeking her comfort as all the noise and people were making him uncomfortable. She shifted him on her hip so he facing away from her inconspicuously.

He whimpered and she jerked him roughly, quickly making all noise from him cease. The old woman hadn't noticed, luckily, so she just gave her condolences and shuffled away.

Wes tapped Cassandra's arm lightly. She turned to him with a warm smile. "Yes, Wes?"

"Mother, why did you lie to that woman?" He asked curiously. "Little brother can talk."

"No, Soul cannot." David said with finality. He then spotted someone he knew and felt the need to speak to and walked away hurriedly.

Cassandra and David were no longer loving.

Soul ruined them. He created a shift and made David become distant and cold to all of them, though even more to Soul himself. This upset Cassandra, who felt abandoned and lost without the warm and firm hand of her husband guiding her. She blamed all things wrong with her life on Soul. Her marriage, their low spot in the chain of society, although in reality, they were higher up on the chain of being than some presidents.

And she placed all the good things she had and expected on Wes' shoulders. She loved him for his talent with the violin and natural charisma. He was the reason they had any popularity at all, and he was the center of her world and expectations.

Soul had become the scapegoat, and Wes the golden boy. Soul was deprived of affection and care, while Wes was coddled. However Wes carried a burden just as large as Soul's. Two hours of violin practice a day became six and entertaining guests became a weekly habit.

The kids were being forced to adapt to things they did not understand too quickly.

Soul made it through his mother's constant harshness with Wes' kind gestures and attention.

Wes did not see anything wrong with Soul and found escape from his mother's rules when conversing with Soul, although the conversations were often one-sided.

Then Mother would find them and tear them apart.

The gala was over and Wes had gone with his father to be tucked into bed and Cassandra was left with Soul. She had set him down as soon as she was out of the public eye and tugged him roughly to his room. She practically shoved him in and changed him roughly. She saw the tears Soul held back and felt a moment of weakness.

Her son should not have to hold in his tears. Her son should not have to have the discipline to.

Her son?

No. Not her son. She frowned and set him down on the bed, not bothering to tuck him in as she left him be.

He pulled the covers around him himself and sniffed, trying to keep back the tears. He felt guilty. He'd broken his promise to Mother and now she was mad at him. Why couldn't he be quiet?

Why couldn't he be normal?

You know a child is troubled when they can ask themselves that question at the mere age of two.

* * *

Maka frowned as she heard the yelling. It'd started when she was three, only lasting a few minutes, and now she was eight and the two could go on for hours.

"I'M TELLING YOU, I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WITH SARA!"

"OH YEAH? THEN TELL ME WHAT THESE TAPES ARE, THEN."

"I-I-I... I DON'T KNOW!"

"RIGHT. RIGHT. YOU FUCKING MAN-WHORE."

Maka turned in her bed, curling into the fetal position and squishing her pillow around her ears so she wouldn't hear the words anymore. She still heard the yells, but they were muffled.

How could the hell could Spirit do that to Mama?

Mama loves Spirit, but he's hurting her...

Why does Papa hate them?

After another two hours of muffled yells, she heard a long period of silence. She let the pillow drop down to the bed and wiped her eyes of the tears that she hadn't known had gathered there.

"NO, KAMI, PLEASE!"

"IT'S TOO LATE SPIRIT, I'M DONE!"

These words scared Maka and she ran out of her room to her parents' room. She saw her Mama with a scowl on her face and tears pouring down her cheeks.

This made Maka angry. Spirit made Mama like this.

Said man was kneeling next to Kami, begging for forgiveness but neither female could care less. Mama finished packing her bag and when she saw Maka standing in the doorway with her pink nightgown and her red-rimmed eyes, she froze.

"Maka." She whispered as though in a trance.

Maka stared at the luggage in Kami's hands and her eyes teared up again. She let out a sob and ran to her mom, wrapping her arms around her legs. "NO, MAMA. DON'T LEAVE ME!"

Kami rested a hand on top of Maka's head. "I'm sorry, Maka. I love you, and I need you to keep courage while I'm gone, okay? I'm just going for a little trip until I can figure some things out, okay?"

Maka sobbed even harder and tugged strongly at her Mama's clothes. "NO! TAKE ME WITH YOU!"

Spirit let out a choked sob behind them, but they ignored him.

Kami knelt down in front of her daughter. She smiled shakily at her and ran a hand down the side of her face while Maka continued to sob unabashedly. Kami sighed. "I'm sorry. I really am, Maka. But I can't handle this anymore. I'm going to be leaving Death City."

Both Spirit and Maka gasped simultaneously. Maka set a determined expression and quelled her sobs quickly. "I'll leave Death City too, then!"

Kami shook her head with a small smile. "No, honey. You can't. You need to stay here until we can find out if you're a meister or a weapon."

"But I want to stay with Mama!"

"You can't. You need to stay here with Papa and-"

"NO! I HATE SPIRIT!" Maka yelled with more hate than an eight-year old should be capable of.

She'd seen it herself, she'd seen him flirting and kissing and doing things he should only do with Mama! He betrayed them, he was awful, terrible, disgusting. Men were pigs. Lying, cheating pigs.

Kami nodded. "I understand. But I need you to know, I don't hate Papa."

"Then why are you leaving me?" Maka asked hysterically.

"Because Mama's a little lost right now. But Mama loves Papa, and she always will. And you love Papa too, even if you're mad at him right now."

"NO I DON'T!" Maka screamed.

Kami grabbed Maka's shoulders firmly. "Okay. If you won't stay for Papa, I need you to stay for me. Stay, become a part of the academy, make me proud to be your Mama, okay? Fight evil, make the world a safer place for me, okay?"

Maka shook, but nodded slightly. "Okay... Okay, I understand, Mama."

"Good. I'll be back someday, I promise Maka..." She kissed her daughter's forehead shakily and stood, not bothering to look at Spirit as she left and walked out of the door, walking in the direction of the train.

Maka ran out, the concrete scratching her bare feet and she stared after her Mama until she disappeared around a corner. Maka shook with anger as Spirit stood in the doorway, looking down with guilt.

What point is guilt if you're just going to keep messing up?

Maka pushed past him and stomped to her room, slamming the door loudly.

* * *

Soul kept a somber expression as he continued to play the notes written out for him by his tutor.

He'd become of use to his mother. Cassandra had discovered him in one of the music rooms, fiddling with the piano. His notes were scrambled and odd, but the talent was there and she instantly signed her four year old son up for six hours of practice like his brother.

His fingers were numb. They used to hurt about two hours ago, but now they were numb and he had trouble pressing the right keys. But if he didn't do it right, then he'd end up going to bed hungry again.

He focused entirely on the music he was playing, finding some comfort in the notes. He wasn't as good as big brother Wes, but the four years of classes had paid off and he was getting better. He was improving and there was finally some semblance of pride on his parents' faces.

His finger slipped and he hit the wrong note. He kept his lips pressed together tightly and kept playing even as his tutor glared at him lividly and Soul yearned to ask him to look away.

But no. He was 'mute'. He was the silent prodigy, son of David and Cassandra Evans.

He kept his mouth closed and ignored the daggers digging into his skin. He kept his blood-red eyes on the keys and tried to lose himself in the music. It was jazz, he liked jazz. He liked jazz but this song was bad.

His tutor was a bad composer.

The timer rung and caused Soul's fingers to slam down on the keys. He was just startled.

But the tutor hit his hand with the ruler anyways for messing up the song. Soul clenched his teeth to keep back the yelp that threatened to escape. He pursed his lips together so tightly, it hurt.

"Okay, Soul. We'll continue tomorrow. I hope you have better discipline by then. If your hands are bothering you I suggest a healthy intake of calcium and potassium."

Soul frowned slightly._ But I'm not allowed._

"You are dismissed. I'll be informing your parents of your lack of progress."

Soul winced and touched his stomach lightly as he slid off the bench slowly. He walked to the door and let out a sigh of relief as the doors closed behind him.

"Hey little brother." Soul smiled slightly at the sound of his brother's voice.

"Hi, Wes." Soul said quietly, not wanting the tutor to hear him.

Wes frowned and looked over to the music room's doors, his eyes lighting in realization and his jaw clenching in anger. At thirteen, he could see the wrong behind his parents' actions towards Soul. He grabbed his brother's arm and led him to his room quickly, so they could talk without being caught.

They got to Wes' room and they sat on the bed across from each other. Wes smiled at his brother. "So how was hell?"

Soul chuckled lightly at Wes' name for practice and shook his head. "I messed up."

Wes winced, knowing the punishment for his brother. "How badly?"

"I was doing an original by the tutor-"

"Pig-face or Buck-tooth?" Wes asked, trying to get his brother to smile more.

"Buck-tooth." Soul answered with a smirk.

"Ah, good old Buck-tooth." Wes said sarcastically.

"Well, I messed up a note, because of my fingers. They were numb." Soul explained. Wes growled and grabbed his hands, his eyes burning when he was how red they were. Soul continued, "And I slammed down on the keys at the end because the timer scared me and he hit me with the ruler."

"You're only eight, dammit!" Wes hissed, absolutely infuriated. He didn't get the ruler when he was eight, or at all until he was ten and that was only once. After that, Cassandra had scolded the tutor for harming her son.

Why didn't she treat Soul the same?

Soul had flinched at Wes' curse and Wes pulled him in for a hug. "I'm so sorry, little brother."

Soul smiled, letting his 'monstrous' teeth show only in the presence of his big brother. "It's okay, brother."

"No it's not." Wes whispered, too low for Soul to hear.

* * *

A/N: OK! I'm trying to write something a little more mature, like less playful. Needs is kind of what I'm talking about, but I feel like the writing is bad. Anyways, This is the first chapter of something I'm gonna write as I go, the updates may be irregular because I'm not used to writing chapters this long, but I hope I get into the rhythm of it. Please review tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Soul gasped in horror.

He sat in the darkness of his room staring down at his arm.

It was red and black, and most importantly, a blade.

Soul shuddered in revulsion at his own body. He felt tears pour down his face at this new side of him.

Just another thing for his parents to hate him for. Just another thing that made him a monster.

Why couldn't he be normal?

He tried desperately to make the blade go away before anyone could see it. Luckily, it was night and only Wes would be coming in to check on him. Wes was coming to visit from college for Soul's thirteenth birthday, and he would be arriving tonight.

But he didn't want brother to see him this way, a demon with blood-red eyes, shark-like teeth and a large intimidating blade in place of his arm. He didn't want Wes to see him this way, because surely, if he did, he would look on at him with the same disgust and disapproval as his parents.

He didn't want to lose the only person who cared about him.

He slammed the side of his new limb against the hard wood of his bed's frame, and he glared at the odd design that reminded him of a monster's teeth dyed red with the blood of its victims. Soul ignored the dull pain where his arm should be and kept hitting the blade, begging his body to return to it's normal disgusting self.

He froze when he heard the knob of his door creak. His head snapped to the door and he pulled the covers from his bed, wrapping them around him and successfully hiding his limb.

The door creaked open slowly and the low voice of his brother seeped in. "Happy birthday little brother, guess who's-"

Wes cut himself off as the light in the hallway lit up his brother. Soul was standing about three feet away from the bed, the covers wrapped loosely around him. His hair was more disheveled as usual and his blood-red eyes were rimmed red, tears pouring down silently down his somber face.

To see his brother crying was one thing, but to see his brother crying with that emotionless expression, the one his parents caused, was entirely another.

And it made Wes see red. He rushed forward, kneeling down in front of his brother and grasping his left shoulder, the other hand steadying him on the floor. "Soul, are you alright? What's the matter?"

Soul shook his head, unable to trust his voice and unused to using it since his brother's departure.

Wes furrowed his white brows. "Speak to me, brother. What happened?"

Soul couldn't! He couldn't tell him! He didn't want to lose Wes!

But he wanted to. He wanted to tell him and be comforted by him. He wanted his brother to see it and just understand. Understand and accept him unlike his parents ever would.

But that was a dream. That was a dream that was too good to be true, and he knew that there was no way his brother would accept something so disgusting and terrifying.

A flash of light shone through the covers and Wes saw it. He moved to remove the cover from his right arm, Soul opening his mouth to stop him, but it was too late.

The cover slipped and exposed his right limb.

Which had turned back into his arm.

Soul let out a breath of relief as Wes scoured the blankets, looking for the source of the light. Wes frowned when he came up empty-handed. He turned back to his brother to ask him again what was wrong, but he'd stopped crying and fallen asleep on the floor.

Wes' frown did not leave his face. He was worried for his brother, and concerned with how his parents were probably treating him.

He picked up Soul gently and set him down in the bed. He brought up the covers and tucked him in, finally smiling at the peaceful look on his little brother's face.

Wes leaned down and planted a kiss on his brother's forehead before pulling away. He started to walk to the door when something caught his eye. He looked closer at the bed posts of Soul's bed and wondered where in the world could the deep gashes on wood could have come from.

* * *

Maka looked down at the post cards all sent from various places through out the world. Each one sent by her mother. She had five so far. One from the same year Kami left, showing Maka she'd crossed the country to go to Florida. Then one was sent when she was nine, showing her mother had gone to Teotihuacan in Mexico. Two more when she was ten and eleven and the most recent one coming from Canada.

She was upset that she couldn't respond to any of the post cards since her mother was always moving, but she was happy to know that Mama still thought of her. Maka reread the note her mother wrote: _Three months to the transformation! ;P Good luck, sweetie._

Maka chuckled again at Mama's name for it. 'The transformation' sounded so ominous, and in reality it was more like 'the grand reveal'.

Maka grinned. She already knew what she was though.

Her soul revealed it's path earlier than most people's did.

Miss Maka Albarn was a meister. Just like her Mama.

She told her Papa, but he'd been so emotional about it she had to knock him out with one of his neglected books.

Since Kami left, Spirit stopped reading. He started to be less discreet as he 'did' women and got drunk on a regular basis. He wasn't cruel to Maka in the sense that he hit her or verbally abused her, but in the sense that Maka knew her Mama still loved this monster of a man. Kami loved him and he was here fucking women left to right.

The door opened and she heard female giggles accompanying Spirit's drunken chortles.

She stood up briskly and strode to her room, closing the door behind her and locking it. She pulled out her CD player and put on her headphones. She was listening to her mother's music to drown out the sexual noises coming from outside her room.

Luckily, her mother had been a fan of heavy metal, so the loud sound of Black Sabbath was able to do the job quite well. Maka didn't know much about music, so she would willingly listen to anything without any sexual implications. But this also meant she didn't have much of an opinion either. She liked what she liked and that's all she knew.

Maka let her eyes drift closed and she used a little trick she'd discovered herself. She took a deep breath and felt around for the souls in the house. She felt something disgusting in the bedroom across down the hall from hers.

It was warm in a sickly way and felt slimy. It was evil and vile and revolting. It made her shiver with disgust and pull her soul away sharply before he noticed.

She hated Spirit so much.

* * *

Soul sat down at the piano with a tired expression. He didn't like playing in public, he didn't like the judging gazes.

He hated most of all to be compared to his brother. To be told how much like him he was, and how they looked so much the same.

It was an insult to his brother.

His brother was perfect, he played the music in such a way that it brought tears of joy to the audience's eyes. When Soul would improvise, and he'd only done so once in front of his parents and his tutors, he'd been given several smacks on the hand by 'the ruler' and been told never to play anything so revolting again.

And Wes certainly did not look like monster.

But, alas, it was Wes' nineteenth birthday and he'd asked Cassandra and David if he could play with Soul, do a duet with him.

They'd agreed, because they would do anything for their son, their perfect son.

So here they were, Wes standing not far from Soul, his bow resting along the strings ready to begin. Soul placed his hands against the cool keys of the piano, his nerves relaxing as they began.

While he hated playing the piano in public, for anyone, he did enjoy it. It made him feel worthy, made him feel normal. It was an escape from reality, being able to tell a story with the notes he played, each one melting into the other as the song progressed.

He no longer cared if his parents loved him, but he knew that if he did not follow their rules, they could abandon him, and he'd have nowhere else to go.

No one would want something like him.

Soul clenched his jaw, sourly wondering what his parents would think if they knew he could change into a scythe.

Soul glanced over at his brother who looked exhausted, but kept up the charming smile and played every note with a vigor. He'd changed. He was less cozy with Soul and detached from him. He was still much kinder to Soul than anyone else, but with his busy schedule and Cassandra's need to have him performing all the time, there was no space in his days for Soul.

Soul was, for all sense and purposes, alone.

Suddenly someone stood up in the audience and distracted Soul, causing a pause in the music and making Wes stop entirely. The looked up together at the woman who'd began making her way to the stage. Soul looked on with a blank face to cover his confusion, and when he glanced at his mother, she looked positively livid.

"Excuse me, you're interrupting a concert, Miss." Wes said, aggravation poisoning his voice.

She kept her gaze on Soul who began to shift uncomfortably. She wore dark sunglasses, so he couldn't see her eyes, and that made it all worse.

She opened her mouth. "How are you here?"

Cassandra finally made it over to the woman. "I'm sorry, my son is mute. He cannot reply to you."

Wes clenched his fist around the neck of his violin at the lie. The blonde woman continued to stare at Soul. "No he isn't."

Soul's blood-red eyes widened considerably. Wes took a step back, confused by this woman's certainty. Cassandra shook her head with a tight smile. "Yes, he is."

"No, his soul is fluctuating every time you say that." She said harshly to Cassandra, who paled in realization.

"You're one of them." She breathed, in awe.

Wes caught on and smiled at the blonde. "Oh, what an honor."

She ignored the two of them and turned to Soul. "Why aren't you at the academy?"

At this point, people were whispering, casting sidelong glances at the youngest Evans. He felt uncomfortable. He wanted to tell them to stop.

Cassandra was shocked and angered at what the woman was saying. "Excuse me? What do you mean, my son is entirely human."

The woman let out a breath. "Yes, I know he is. You know what my occupation is, I am aware he is human. But he is also a weapon."

Soul felt dizzy. Who was this woman? How did she know he could speak? How did she know about his ability? Why wasn't she frightened and revolted?

Wes stared at his little brother, who purposely avoided everyone's gaze. Wes took a step in his direction. "Soul? Is this true?"

Soul looked up at everyone. He looked at his mother who just looked surprised. And there was something else...

Soul looked away, looking down at the keys of the piano for comfort.

"Soul,-" Wes started.

The blonde interrupted him. She walked up onto the stage and put a hand on his shoulder. He turned to her with a blank expression, his lips tightly pressed together. She smiled at him and removed her sunglasses to reveal two green eyes. "Hi, Soul. I'm Kami Albarn. I'm a meister from the Death Weapon Meister Academy. Do you know what that is?"

Soul shook his head, finding some comfort in her kind eyes.

Cassandra yelled. "NO! HE CAN'T BE!"

Soul's gaze snapped over to her to see tears pouring down her face and large amounts of guilt in her expression. He turned back to 'Kami' and opened his mouth slightly, still hiding his teeth. "I turn into a weapon."

The audience gasped and loud chatter erupted. Soul looked over at his mother who was being cradled by his father who also looked very guilty. Soul looked over at Wes who looked pleased and was smiling at him with what couldn't possibly be pride.

How could it?

Kami smiled at Soul. "Yes, I know. I am a meister, someone who can wield weapons. Now, there is a school in Nevada, America that specializes in teaching people just like you about their abilities."

Soul frowned. There were more people like him?

He was... normal, somewhere?

Soul looked down at his calloused hands and thought of his life at home.

It was terrible.

But if there was somewhere where he could belong, where people would accept him...

Soul looked at Wes. Wes nodded and took a step forward, leaning on the piano casually with a large grin. "Little brother, this is an amazing opportunity for you. Weapons and meisters are like superheroes in America. There aren't as many here, but when there is, they are basically, the coolest people around."

Kami nodded. "They're more often found in West America, closer to the home of the Death Weapon Meister Academy."

Soul looked between these two people, the only one who cared about him, and the one who was offering him a new life. Both seemed to support this academy, and both seemed to support his being a weapon.

Kami ran a hand through her hair and looked at him with sympathy. "I know this is kind of abrupt, but sensing the distress in your soul, then realizing you're a weapon was too much to ignore."

Wes' fist clenched at the word 'distress'. He smiled at his brother after taking a breath. "You two talk, I'll be back. I need to speak with Mother."

Soul wanted to stop him, but refrained from doing so. His brother obviously was uncomfortable with the whole weapon situation.

Kami felt the pain in his soul and changed the subject. "Is there somewhere we can speak alone?"

Soul nodded and slipped off of the piano bench. He put his hands into the pockets of his suit, and led her out of the room through the door behind the stage so they wouldn't have to make their way through the crowd that'd gathered around Cassandra and David.

He led her through the corridors until they reached his personal music room. He needed to be near a piano. He walked in, leaving the door open for her to follow and he sat at the piano bench. She stood awkwardly for a second before clearing her throat. "So, your name is Soul Evans?"

He nodded silently, not used to speaking to anyone but his brother.

"Alright, I guess that was a dumb question." She took a step towards him. "Do you mind if I see your weapon form?"

He stiffened then relaxed, knowing she was used to seeing things like him. He shifted himself all the way and felt himself rest on the floor. He looked up at her and she looked indifferent. She moved forward to touch him, but they both hissed in pain when she did. "Well, I can't wield you..."

He shifted back, grimacing. She gasped and stepped back. He closed his mouth instantly and knew that was the cause of her gasp. "What's wrong with your teeth?"

He frowned deeply. "I don't know."

She shook her head and stood firmly, but her voice still shook. "I'm sorry, I was just caught off guard."

He looked away from her, deciding he didn't like her very much and instead looked down at the piano. "What's the academy?"

"Well, like I said, it's where you learn about your abilities." She continued to explain the 'bad guys' and about Lord Death and didn't finish talking until about three hours later.

He looked on at her with a bored expression, but on the inside he was jumping up and down. He wanted this. He wanted to be viewed as a hero, he wanted to help the world.

He wanted this.

Instead of agreeing immediately, he told her to return tomorrow for his decision. She agreed to let him think it over and left without another word.

Soul sat at his piano. He needed to play. While he was alone, while he had time. He needed to figure things out.

He rest his hands on the keys and let his eyes drift closed. He took a breath and began to play, began to play the song of his soul.

It was troubled, for sure, but it was also strong and determined. There was fear in the notes he played and a lot of confusion, but it soon resolved itself and set into a dark, yet relaxed, tune.

When he finished playing he heard a quiet applause. He turned to see his brother walking towards him with a smile. "That was good."

Soul scoffed. "Right. That's why I was told never to play like that again."

Wes shrugged. "Mother and Father have bad taste in music."

Soul laughed quietly then asked in all seriousness. "What do I do?"

Wes touched his shoulder and their eyes met. There was no mistaking the warm acceptance and pride in his older brother's mahogany gaze. "Go."

Soul opened his mouth to protest but his brother quickly interrupted. "I know you want to go. You're a weapon, little brother. This is amazing."

Soul looked down at his hands. "I'm normal?"

Wes laughed quietly. "No."

Soul looked up in distress but his brother interrupted him again. "No, you're much cooler than normal ever could be."

* * *

A/N: Alright, I suppose I'm doing two updates a weekend. I'll try anyways. Shout out to my ONE REVIEWER Mermain123. In all seriousness, I really appreciate your review and I'm glad you liked the first chapter. I hope you like this one just as much!

Just something I have to say about how people tend to portray Wes: I hate when they make him an asshole! It's not right at all, especially since in reality Soul's jealous of him, and I have a hard time believing Soul would be jealous of a jack ass.

I hope this fic turns out well :D

That is all...

Sorry the chappy's short :') I'll make it longer next time for sure.


	3. Chapter 3

Maka sighed disparagingly.

It's been almost a year at the academy, and despite her best efforts she still could not find _the one_. Her partner, her soul's match.

Sure it sounded kind of romantic in that context, but to her, not finding her partner simply obstructed her plans for life. Her plans of making a death scythe even stronger than her worthless Papa and being able to fill her mother's shoes.

She'd refused to tell anyone her surname, and instead used her mother's maiden name whenever people questioned her. She knew by being the current Death Scythe's daughter, she'd be swarmed with weapons requesting to be her partner simply for the possibility of meeting him.

They thought he was something to look up to.

_Tch._ Right.

She fiddled with the buttons on her jacket and leaned against the wall, letting out a long, tired breath. She was doing as much as she could in her classes without a weapon, but it was hard. They were still just learning the basics, about different types of souls, the point of being in a partnership, and so on.

She already _knew_ all of this.

Maka tugged on her gloves, boredom eating at her and forcing her to think about unlikely scenarios.

What if she never found a partner? If she didn't, Mama would be disappointed. Maka can't fail her!

Maka promised when Mama left that she would make her proud. She promised to fight for good.

But how can she do that without a weapon partner?

Maka sighed and continued walking down the hallway, waiting for Spirit to be done so they could go his house.

It stopped being home when her family broke.

She tugged on her pigtail. She was restless. She knew what all the other partnered students were doing. They were training, learning tactical plans and preparing for their first missions.

Maka stopped. She shook her head of all the negative notions.

She set her jaw and her eyes became hard and determined.

She would find a partner. She would find a scythe, even, and she would make her into the strongest death scythe Lord Death had ever seen.

She promised her mother she'd keep courage.

* * *

"Okay, honey." Soul frowned at the endearment.

He found Cassandra's new behaviour towards him unsettling. She'd started being kind when Soul had left the music room to head towards his room, bracing himself for the hunger pangs that were sure to come. He felt resentment for the mysterious Kami because she'd caused him to mess up the recital.

But to his utter surprise and confusion, his mother had found him, asking him why he hadn't come down to dinner yet.

He'd replied, saying the recital had gone awry and knew his dinner was confiscated.

She'd laughed, an odd laugh, strained, and told him he was silly.

Silly.

Silly?

He'd ground his teeth.

_"What do you mean, silly?"_

_She shook her head at him lightly. "Your dinner wasn't confiscated. Why in the world would I starve you for something entirely out of your control?"_

_Soul snapped. He felt the unfamiliar jolt of electricity in his arm and he saw his mother's face pale as she stepped back. "Excuse me?! Are you seriously fucking asking me that?!"_

_She put on a stern expression and rose a finger at him. "Now Soul, I'm still your mother and you will not speak to me that way."_

_He shook his head and laughed bitterly. "Oh hell no. You have to be shitting me."_

_She gasped in repulsion at his behaviour but he cut her off._

_"Finally, after fourteen years, you're finally ready to step up and claim that role? After treating me like you did?!"_

_Usually he wore a mask, covering up his emotions so no one would see through him to the pain and hurt he felt. He needed to seem alright. He needed to seem like a perfectly content child, especially in front of people outside of the family._

_But now, the mask was gone, thrown in the metaphorical dumpster. His anger was the most apparent emotion, rage making his blood-red eyes burn and fury contorting his mouth into a large snarl, revealing his demon teeth._

_But there was also disbelief evident in his wide eyes and the looseness of his jaw. Hurt in his furrowed brows. _

_All she saw was rage, and she was terrified. The combination of the rare and strong emotion evident on his demonly face and the light glaring off of the large blade replacing his arm._

_She'd felt bad for that exact reason. For treating her son like a monster, a demon, an abomination, when in fact he was born to protect the world._

_But here, she was doubting that._

_He looked like the spawn of hell, hatred coming from him in waves and all the blood red frightening her terribly._

_He saw the fear on her face, and it took him a minute to register it before his arm flashed back to normal, and he drained his face clean of emotion. _

_He was hungry, but he did not want to be anywhere near his monster of a mother. "I'm going to bed. I'm leaving tomorrow for Nevada."_

It'd been almost a week, actually. To set up his living affairs, notify the academy, and procrastinate. Now here he was, forcing himself not to shove her hands away as she straightened his tie. He'd wanted this, no? His parents' love and attention? But he'd only gotten it once he was _leaving._ He was getting what he wanted after he finally didn't want it anymore.

Cassandra refrained from wrinkling her nose at his suit. Wes had given him this suit, black with red pinstripes, stating that is was very _Soul_.

She pulled away, smiling slightly at him. "You have your account, your plane's leaving in half an hour, you're ready to go."

Soul nodded and turned away from her, grabbing the only suitcase he packed, leaving behind the bag his mother packed. He opened the door and stepped out only to hear the voice he'd been avoiding.

"What, no goodbye to your big brother?" Soul turned slowly to see Wes. This was what he'd been avoiding, the hurt on his face, the sad smile and the awkward goodbye.

Soul smiled at his brother. Well, he was here now. Might as well milk the moment.

He dropped his bag rushed over to his big brother, wrapping his arms around Wes' lean torso. He pressed his face into his older brother's suit and found the familiar scent incredibly comforting.

Wes held back his tears and smiled down at the head of white that was buried in his chest. Wes didn't want to have to say goodbye to him, but this was for the best.

It was what was best for his brother.

Wes returned the hug, crushing Soul in his arms. "I'll miss you little brother."

Soul nodded, unable to speak with the tears blocking his voice. Soul sniffed and pulled away, wiping his eyes furiously.

Wes smiled at the emotion on his brother's face, glad that his time of hiding and pretending was coming to an end. He gasped and remembered his gift. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a golden watch. He held it out to his brother. "I forgot to wrap it, but here."

Soul took the watch, holding it delicately. He spun it over to find an engraving on the back.

_Soul~_

_Don't hide from anything anymore. You're free. _

_Love, Wes._

Soul put the watch on quickly and hugged his brother again.

Cassandra ruined their moment. "Soul, sweetheart, you're going to miss your plane if you don't leave right now."

Soul and Wes both turned and shot a glare at her, Wes' more discreet but still there.

Wes gripped his brother's shoulder and gave him a sad half-smile. "I'll call you when I can."

Soul nodded and chuckled a bit. "I have your number."

Wes led Soul back to the door and picked his bag up, handing it to him. "Promise me you'll stay cool, Soul."

Soul smirked. "Since when aren't I?"

Wes smirked back and ruffled Soul's already messy hair. "Alright, alright. Now don't miss your plane, little brother. That would be very uncool."

Soul nodded, his smile melting into a warm one that was reserved only for his brother. "I love you, Wes."

Wes copied his smile. "I love you too, Soul. Now go, make me even prouder of you."

Soul laughed and turned, stepping into the limousine that was to take him to the airport, turning only to wave to his brother one more time. Then the door closed and he was on his way to his new future.

* * *

Maka sighed. Finally, Friday.

Then she had the weekend to mope about her lack of progress in finding a partner.

She slapped her palm to her head. How come Blackstar could find a partner, and she couldn't?!

Her shoulders drooped pathetically.

And it didn't help that Spirit was being clingier than usual.

She walked down the familiar hallways, trying to think of all the academic progress she's made. Sure, everyone else had gotten their first mission today, but whatever. She was still the top of her class as far as the textbook knowledge went.

"Hey, Maka." She groaned. It was _them_.

"Hey, you little nerd, do you hear me?" She turned to see the 'gorgons' approaching her. When she'd started her training at the DWMA, she assumed the bullying would be nonexistent. You know, because you have to be able to trust everyone at the academy with your life in the face of battle.

Bullying tends to put a damper on trust.

Maka didn't understand why they even cared about her. She was just Maka Domen to them. Just the bookworm who mostly kept to herself unless conversing with Blackstar and his weapon partner.

She never did anything to them.

She supposed bullying was always pointless, with no discernible logic behind it.

She turned on her heel and walked in the other direction. The 'gorgons' kept following her hissing things along the lines of, "Oh my Death, how is _she_ the top of the class? She can't even understand us!", or "She must think she's so much better than us. She doesn't even have a weapon!"

Maka picked up her pace, not wanting to engage with them. She knew that if she did, she'd just be opening a can of worms that she didn't have the interest or patience to deal with.

She turned the corner and opened the closest door she saw, stepping in quietly and quickly, and closing the door without a sound so they couldn't follow her. She heard them walk by and hiss more insults at her as they continued down the corridor.

She let out a breath and leaned on the door resting her back against it.

"Hey." She opened her eyes to look around the room until she saw a guy around her age standing near the piano near the wall of the music room.

She looked at him, at his curious red eyes were looking her over and his lips were pressed together tightly. He wore a red pinstripe suit, and the elegance of it clashed greatly with the disarray of his snowy locks.

"Hi."

* * *

Soul's flight had been long and uneventful. His stomach was turning with anxiety and it'd been a great relief when he finally landed in Death City, Nevada.

Luckily, his family had very good connections and he'd gotten an apartment near the school, knowing that he'd have to walk if he didn't want to show up in some fancy limousine everyday.

While on the flight, Soul had done a lot of thinking. He'd decided that it be for the best if he didn't reveal his background to anyone at the academy. He wanted a clean slate, to start over. He wanted all of the judging gazes to be gone and to be normal.

Or as normal as he could be.

He'd gotten out, sent his luggage with the driver that was supposed to take him home before he went to the Death Weapon Meister Academy to enroll himself. But he decided he needed time alone, to think.

So he walked. He walked. He walked. He stopped. He was in a plaza. He took in the busy people, all walking to their destinations, some people in small groups or couples entirely committed to their conversation.

Not a single glance shot his direction.

He smirked, pleased by this fact and continued walking, at a slower pace, avoiding the crowd and observing it from a distance. He did not, by any means, want to become a part of that crowd.

That would draw unwanted attention.

He continued walking, shoving his hands into his pockets and leading with his feet, letting his torso lean back as he observed the sun.

It looked different in America... For one, he could look right at it, and... it seemed...

Almost... alive.

Soul smirked at the thought and shook his head, blowing it off as an absurd hallucination from being holed up in the plane for so long.

He paused as he caught sight of a store with something yellow in the display. He walked towards it and paused there. It was a jacket, with yellow and black clashing together in a nice way. What intrigued him was the small patch on the left breast and it's matching counterpart.

They looked kind of like... a soul?

He smirked wider and made a note to himself to come back to this place when he was settled in. He would after all need a new wardrobe if he was going to be blending in. Judging by the people walking around him, he determined that his suits were not going to do the trick.

What was the name of this place? He chuckled when he looked. Death's Wardrobe.

What was with that? Death Weapon Meister Academy, Death City, now, Death's Wardrobe?

These people were kind of morbid.

He continued walking until he found the address of the academy, which was right in the middle of the small city.

He gaped at the steps, wondering if he really needed to climb all of these everyday just to get an education.

But he climbed them anyway, resulting in him being very out of breath when he reached the top of the stairs. He walked up to the entrance and looked around at the empty corridors that looked much less intimidating than the building itself. He glanced down at his new watch and found there was plenty of time until he needed to get to the office.

He looked at the stairs leading up and down in front of him and the long corridors on either side of him.

"Might as well start looking for it."

After wandering for awhile, opening doors where he knew there weren't classes going on, he found a large mahogany door with a large G-clef engraved in it. And of course the small skull decorating every door he'd seen so far at the top of the door.

He opened it, peeking in only to find the lighting to be dim. He opened the door further and stepped in out of curiosity. The door closed behind him and forced his eyes to adjust to the darker lighting. It didn't take long.

He blinked.

He blinked again.

In front of him was a large sleek, black grand piano. He took a few steps forward and noticed that the fall board was already up. He let his hand run over the piano, appreciating the smoothness. He let his fingers run over the keys, not pressing them at all, but feeling the cool ivory on the pads of his calloused fingers.

He heard some quiet shuffling behind him and the door scrape against the floor softly. He turned slowly and found a girl who looked much younger than him pressing her ear against the door she just entered. Her hair looked blonde and was tied up into pigtails. She wore a black trench coat, cloak, thing, that clung to her small waist rather tightly.

He couldn't see her face too clearly and she didn't seem to notice him. He felt nervous, he didn't quite know why though.

She sighed loudly and turned to rest her back against the door, her eyes closed and her knees bent with relief.

He smiled slightly at her plump cheeks and nodded to himself. She has to be at most eleven.

But he wanted to see those eyes. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted her to know he was there. He wanted to make his presence known.

"Hey." He blurted out. He snapped his mouth shut and pressed his lips together.

Her eyes opened to reveal a shocking shade of green filled with surprise. They met his own and he eyed her curiously as she looked him over. He wondered how she would react.

"Hi." She responded simply.

That worked for him.

* * *

They looked at each other for awhile, waiting for the other to make the first move.

At the same time, Maka pushed herself off of the door and Soul moved and sat on the piano bench.

Maka clasped her hands behind her back and watched him as he let his hands trail over the keys again. She tilted her head. "Do you play?"

Soul turned to her with a raised brow and surprise in his eyes. Then he shook his head a bit, remembering that no one here knew who he was, and smirked, revealing a mouth full of shark-like teeth. "A little."

Maka took a step forward and his smirk disappeared, fading into shock again.

Why didn't she step away? Didn't she see his teeth? Even that meister Kami was startled by his teeth, and a little shaken.

She smiled a small polite smile, somehow feeling comfortable with this stranger. "Are you good?"

He smiled a little. "Yeah, a little. I'm not as good as my brother though."

She rose a brow. "Your brother plays piano too?"

"No." He said, turning back to the piano. "What's your name?"

"Maka." She replied instantaneously. She took two steps forward. "Are you a new student here?"

Soul nodded quietly, still bewildered by her friendly disposition.

"Oh, that's great! I'm a meister here. What's your name?" Maka asked curiously, wanting for him to turn back to her and engage.

As though he read her mind he turned a head over his shoulder, giving her a good view of his red eyes and sharp teeth. When she didn't back away, he continued. "My name is Soul. This who I am."

He turned back to the piano, feeling her confused gaze trained on the back of his head. But it wasn't uncomfortable. He didn't want her to look away.

He wanted her to listen.

He pressed his hands to the keys, familiarizing himself with the foreign piano, pressing a few keys lightly. Then he began, starting off with softer notes, watching her as she stepped forward to stand next to him as he played. He saw her out of the corner of his eyes and smiled at her face. She looked surprised and as bewildered as he was with her.

He closed his eyes and lost himself in the notes, playing the song he'd played only twice in his life.

The song of his soul.

She stood beside him, her hands falling to her sides. She was surprised and confused when he first started, but when he seemed to start getting into it, the song change drastically. It was dark and pulled at her heartstrings. She wanted to cry for him, knowing this kind of music could only come from the soul.

She may not understand music, but she understood this much:

He was telling her his deepest secrets with these notes.

It wasn't the music that told her any of this, but the expression he wore. His white brows that proved his hair was natural were furrowed deeply and his eyes clenched shut with emotion and concentration. His leg was tapping to a pattern in the notes she couldn't make out and his lips were parted over his sharp teeth which were clenched as tightly as his eyes.

She watched and she listened and she felt her soul calling out to the music in a way that was bordering on painful. She smiled at the beauty behind it and her eyes became watery with the raw emotion she felt.

He threw his head back, his hands glued to the piano as his song hit its climax. He'd never played this passionately before and definitely didn't mean to play like this in front of Maka.

She brought her hand up to her chest, feeling her pounding heart as she leaned forward towards the enchanting sound.

His head fell forward and his shoulders followed suit, hunching up as he forced himself to play out the rest of the song. His fingers were starting to tingle and little did he know that Maka's were too.

His shoulders fell and his fingers began to trail off on the keys, ending the song illegitimately.

He left his hands on the keys, breathing deeply. He felt emotionally drained.

Maka let her hand drop and she took another step forward, standing right next to the bench at arm's length from Soul.

His head was down his bangs falling over his eyes messily. She touched his shoulder and he stiffened, ready to be scolded and feeling the ghost of pain on his hands from 'the ruler'.

"That was beautiful." Maka said quietly. His head shot up and he turned to her, his red eyes wide and his mouth open slightly in shock. "I've never heard anything so touching before..."

Soul blinked at her. "Thanks."

Maka nodded and rubbed the back of her head almost nervously. She wanted to ask him. She could feel his soul and she knew he was a weapon. She felt their souls reach out to each other positively while he was playing, and it made the tips of her fingers tingle.

"Um... Do you want to be partners?" Maka blurted out. It was better if the rejection was quick, and done without beating around the bush.

And she knew he would reject her because he was a man, and the only thing men cared about was sex. And Maka definitely was not offering sex, was not sexy or even adequate. She was just Maka.

He had no reason to accept her... or her offer.

He stared at her. He nodded slowly, wondering how she knew he was a weapon and how she kept her mask up. She was good. She kept the mask up without falter _and_ was able to be pleasant.

He wondered how long she'd had to have had a mask, seeing as it was flawless. But he knew she had to be a little frightened, shaken, _scared_.

Maka blinked in surprise and he wondered if she'd wanted him to say no. Before he could take it back, though, she broke into a large grin, ecstatic that he accepted her offer. She quickly reigned in her excitement and settled for a small smile. She closed her eyes and raised a hand to remove her right glove. She held her small, yet capable hand out to him. "It's a promise."

Soul reached a hand out tentatively and touched the smooth palm of her hand. She grabbed his hand, surprising him with the firmness of her grip and she shook it once.

Then they just sat there for a moment. She felt the warmth of his hand seep into her usually cold one. She felt the callouses on his hands and assumed, from what she'd gathered from his performance, that they were from piano. She saw the tan of his skin contrast with her paler tone, and smiled.

She'd found the one.

* * *

A/N: Okay! It's an update day! Third chapter, and our favorite (hopefully) characters finally meet!

I hope this was good, I had a lot of fun with that little piano scene. Please review, and I feel I should let people know that I'm open to suggestions about what should happen, because this story is about the first time these two get 99 souls, so there are going to be a LOT of chapters. O.O I'm not sure I'm up for that without a little help from the audience. Thanks so much, _Mermain123_ and _Ren (__anon.) _for reviewing! I'm glad SOMEONE likes my new story, but I know it needs to be longer before people can judge it. So thanks.

Please review and new update tomorrow!


	4. Chapter 4

Soul stared down at the soft hand in his own. He pulled his hand away, realizing they'd been holding hands for a while.

Maka cleared her throat. "Thank you."

Soul nodded, not saying a word out of habit. He then remembered his purpose for being at the academy in the first place and pulled back his sleeve to look at his watch. He cursed inwardly and ran a hand through his hair.

"What's wrong?" Maka eyed his distressed expression carefully, wondering if he was changing his mind about their partnership already.

"I'm supposed to be at this 'Lord Death's office in five minutes and I still have no idea where the office is." Soul said, walking past her towards the door.

He stepped out into the bright corridor and hissed as the lighting burned his eyes.

She chuckled and strode past him, pushing him out of the room, a making her way down the long corridor with sure strides. He blinked a few times, his eyes watery, and he stared after her. She paused and turned to him, a yard away.

"You coming?" She asked, jerking her chin as a gesture for him to follow.

He nodded and jogged up to her, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, the light removing the shadows from her face. Her skin was milky, and looked as soft as silk. The light reflected off of her green eyes, giving them a determined glare. She had no smile, not like she had in the room, and took quick steps. He noticed that her back straight and she carried herself with authority.

Well, besides the hands clasped behind her back childishly and the pigtails in her hair.

But she carried herself in such a way... "How old are you?"

Maka's eyes met him out of the corner of her eye for a brief second before she closed them and sighed. "I'm thirteen."

Soul's eyes widened. "No kidding. Huh."

Maka knew why he thought she was younger, but she couldn't find it in herself to say anything about it. He hadn't, after all, _said_ it was because the had the figure of a nine-year-old. She suddenly felt uncomfortable in the silence. "How old are you?"

"Fourteen." She blinked at the age in confusion.

"Why are you just now joining? Are you a late bloomer?" Maka asked curiously. Most people joined the academy as soon as they found out what they were, _if_ they were anything, at the age of thirteen, like Maka.

"What do you mean?" Soul asked, confused with the term.

"Like, did your blood kick in a little later than usual?"

"When do people normally find out if they're scythes?" Soul asked.

Just by the way he phrased the question, Maka instantly realized he must be one of _those_. The types who didn't inherit their abilities, but somehow ended up with them.

But that usually didn't happen with weapons, due to the unusual way they came about. However, due to the increase in amount of weapons, and the fact that there were more weapons than there were meisters, it wasn't surprising that weapon blood was starting to spread past inheritance.

"Well, people find out what they are when they're thirteen, usually. It's common knowledge around here, but I guess you live farther away." Maka responded, while discreetly trying to learn more about him.

He only answered to her response. "I found out when I was thirteen. I just found out about the DWMA about a week ago, though."

Maka nodded in understanding. Then she went back to something he'd said before that made her gasp and pull him to a stop. "You're a scythe?!"

He nodded. "Didn't you know that?"

"Well, I knew you were a weapon, but... Oh Death, you're a scythe! That's perfect!" Maka continued walking, with a slight bounce in her step.

A scythe, could you believe it? She would have been fine settling for any weapon, but to have a scythe was what she dreamed of!

Now she could really try to fill her Mama's shoes and surpass that dirty, lying, cheating, scummy, disgusting, vile, whorish, idiotic-

"So, not everyone's a scythe?" Soul asked. He'd accepted the thought of other weapons like him, but it occur to him that they were in fact, _other_ weapons.

Maka shook her head. "Scythes are actually really rare, even with the current ratio of weapons to meisters. You see, there can be hammers, carving knives, pistols, shot guns, katanas, basically any weapon man has ever used. Now, based on what I know about weapons, I've come up with the theory that the quantity of certain types of weapons is based on how often that weapon is used by humans. Since swords and guns are used all over the world, they are the most common type of weapon. Then there are weapons, like scythes, that are rarely used... outside... the... Are you even listening to me?"

She glanced over, noticing the bored look on Soul's face. His unfocused gaze was trained ahead of him.

He nodded. "Sorry, it's just.. kind of new to me."

Maka sighed. Catching up to the rest of her class was going to be hard, especially if she was working with a blank slate. She would have to teach him all the basics most people knew before they were even part of the academy, and all they'd learned in the past year.

_Let's hope it's worth it._ Maka thought.

* * *

Maka laughed as she and Soul walked out of the Death Room.

Soul had been sufficiently shocked to find out that his new principal was, indeed, _the _Grim Reaper. The real one.

He actually took souls from the dead.

Well, Lord Death had explained his duty as a student of the DWMA and Soul was a little shaken.

The woman, _was her name Katy?, _hadn't explained thoroughly, and he berated himself for falling for the sophist's words. _Hero my ass._

Soul kept his mask up, hiding his uncertainty and fear. He was going to be risking his life.

He could _die._

"Oh, calm down. I'll be the one doing the actual fighting. You're just in charge of magnifying my wavelength thoroughly." Maka said, trying to stop laughing at his over reaction.

Over reaction? No, he was not over reacting, _at all_.

He was going to be fighting dangerous monsters that killed human beings just to eat their souls, he was going to be killing those _things_ and essentially be becoming a murderer himself.

Sure, the reaper had said it all in a cheery voice, so if you hadn't been listening closely, you'd think everything was just _dandy_.

He looked over at Maka who didn't look at all anxious at the prospect of risking her life, or taking another.

"Are you really comfortable with the idea of taking a life?" Soul asked incredulously as they made their way to the front of the academy.

Maka shook her head. "You don't understand, Soul. Pre-kishins have killed and taken a good, pure soul. After the first one, it's impossible to regain any human qualities. Pre-kishins have no remorse, no complex thought process, they're brainless monsters that have regressed back to primal instincts, only looking to quench their hunger for power."

Soul thought about it for a while and shrugged, still troubled by the idea of killing anything.

"Soul, look at it through my eyes. I was born into this life, knowing my purpose from the beginning. I've seen those creatures, I've even seen them kill. I've heard of so many gruesome stories, I've witnessed their evil." Maka shook her head, grieving for all the good souls lost to the enemy. "There is no way a human could ever shred apart a human being the way they do. I know no person as remorseless at those beasts. Besides, most of them are already supposed to be dead."

Soul looked over at her when she said she'd seen them kill. She didn't look traumatized or scared, as he was expecting. Just kind of... sad. Maybe a bit disgusted.

She was used to the ideas of killing kishins, she was born into the job.

He was thrown into it after living a life that may have not been perfect, but never threatened his life.

She sighed, realizing how difficult this must be for him. The reached the entrance and he turned to her.

"Thanks for leading me. It's not cool how easy to get lost it is." He said.

"No problem." She sighed again. "Look, I get this is all hard for you, and I know you're having second thoughts, but give it a week. Then, after what you learn, if you think we're still morally unjust and can't handle this, you can revoke our partnership, no hard feelings."

Soul nodded slowly. He dreaded to return home, but he wasn't sure this place was much better.

* * *

Maka sighed as Soul walked down the steps. She couldn't read his face, but she knew he was disturbed by what Lord Death said.

_Always one to be blunt._ She thought, rolling her eyes slightly at the thought of the reaper.

She hoped that Soul wouldn't quit, she hoped that he would give this life a chance.

And although it made her feel guilty, she knew she wanted him for her own selfish cause.

"MAKA!" She sighed at the sound of Spirit's voice. He refrained from hugging her because she was glaring at him with a vigor, and instead stood in front of her. He used his blue eyes to try to convey his love for her and asked excitedly, "Maka, darling, sweetie, do you want to go get some sushi? I know how sad you've been about not being able to find a partner and-"

"I hate sushi." Maka deadpanned, her cold gaze unwavering.

Spirit froze and his throat closed up. _Oh no, I forgot! It was Kami who liked sushi, Maka hates it! Okay, there's only one way to fix this, Spirit._

"Hey, why don't we go to the library, I know you love reading!" Spirit offered, a bead of sweat on his temple.

She shrugged. "Sure, but you know you were banned, right?"

Spirit's face reddened in slight embarrassment. "W-well, I was th-thinking..."

"Let's just go home." Maka turned and started walking down the steps and Spirit trailed behind her forlornly.

* * *

Soul opened the door to his new apartment and thanked whoever was listening that he didn't have to unpack anything. He shrugged off his coat as soon as the door closed behind him and threw it on the couch. He walked over to the landline and picked it up, glad to know it was in service. He dialed the number of the one person who could remind him why the hell he was at this god forsaken place.

"Hello?"

"Hi Wes..." Soul said nervously.

"Little brother! I'm glad to hear you, how was your flight? Do you like your apartment? Is it unbearably hot in Nevada? None of your luggage went missing, right?" Wes asked his brother all in one breath. He missed him so much already.

Soul laughed lightly. "My flight was fine, the apartment is fine, none of my luggage went missing, and Nevada is fine."

Wes laughed. "Very well, then my job of being the pestering older brother is done. Now to be the nagging older brother. Did you get to the meeting on time?"

Soul rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe a minute or two late. But the academy is _huge_, there's no way I would have found the office in time without Maka."

"Maka?" Wes inquired.

Soul sighed. "Yeah, she's this girl, she offered a partnership and I agreed. But Wes-"

"You already have a partner? That's amazing Soul, that's wonderful! What's she like?"

"I don't know." Soul said. Was he supposed to know her? Was it bad to make a partnership without a friendship? Well he doubted he _could_ be friends with her, if he was right about her having a mask.

"Well, that's alright. You can learn more about her while you learn about yourself." Wes declared. Already, his little brother was making progress.

"But Wes, I-"

"Oh, I'm so excited for you little brother! To be the first ever weapon in our family! If, no, _when_ you become a Death Scythe, we are going to The largest gala in the world, show people that Soul Evans is the best Evans yet!" Wes gushed. Wes sounded like a mother would, _should_. But he took the place of Cassandra long ago.

Soul heard the excitement in his brother's voice, the pride. He wanted that pride to stay there. "Hey, Wes, I have to go do something."

Wes sighed. "Alright. Call when you can, Soul."

Soul hung up then, rubbing his face with his hands.

No, he couldn't go home. He just couldn't. David and Cassandra could go jump off of a cliff, but it was Wes. Wes was expecting great things from him, and Soul couldn't let him down.

Besides, he'd already promised that Maka girl, and she seemed so happy with the arrangement. It wouldn't be cool to let her down like that...

Well, she offered a week long warranty.

A week. He sighed. A week could be a very long time.

He walked over to the fridge to see he had no food. He wasn't too surprised. You could only supply so much in so much time, even if you were filthy rich.

He loosened his tie and sat down on the couch. He wasn't too eager to head back out there.

Well, it wasn't like he wasn't used to hunger.

His stomach grumbled and he sighed. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Maka wandered around the plaza with her only friends. She honestly cared for them, but she could not stand hearing Blackstar gush about killing a kishin.

It only reminded her that she barely had a partner.

"And I, the Great Blackstar, laughed in his face and swung Tsubaki out to chop off his head!" A few people turned heads at this, but only because he was being so loud.

Ah, Death City. Fully aware of all the crazy happenings around them, and totally fine with all of it.

Maka turned to Tsubaki to confirm this fact and Tsubaki looked away. So, none of that happened.

"Shut up Blackstar, you're full of it." Maka said, hopping onto the fountain in the center of the plaza.

"Oh really?" Blackstar asked angrily, wondering how in the world anyone could doubt a _god_.

"If you really were able to kill the kishin egg like that, then where's the soul?" Maka asked.

"Well, Tsubaki ate it, duh!"

"Oh really? Hm... I'll ask my dad about that." That was another fact. Only these two knew her father was Lord Death's right hand man, and she liked them because they didn't care at all. Blackstar was too full of _himself _to look up to Spirit, and Tsubaki was from a large family famous for their weapons. She didn't like being compared to them, and understood Maka's decision to keep quiet.

"Blackstar,-" Tsubaki started only to be interrupted.

"No, let her ask! I doubt she would go anywhere NEAR him willingly!" Blackstar said, an obnoxious grin on his face.

"You just kind of outed yourself, Blackstar." Maka said.

"What?! HOW?!" Blackstar asked, going through their conversation in his head.

"And now I know for sure. Jeez, do you have to brag all the time, Blackstar? It's not as impressive when it's not true. Just be loud about your _real_ accomplishments." Maka said.

Blackstar rolled his eyes and turned to Tsubaki. "Let's go eat. Your god is starving!"

Tsubaki giggled and nodded. She turned to Maka with a questioning gaze.

Tsubaki didn't talk much.

"It's okay, I'm not really hungry. I think I'll just head to the library." Maka replied.

Tsubaki nodded and Blackstar scoffed. "You're such a bookworm. Besides, you're as thin as a twig. A god can't leave his disciples to starve!"

Maka sighed, somewhat appreciating Blackstar's way of showing concern. It didn't sound like her father's hopeless whining. "Fine, I'll go."

Tsubaki made a pleased noise and smiled while Blackstar simply grinned. "We're gonna go to a buffet, a god can have no limits to anything, including what he can eat!"

The trio made their way to a buffet near the plaza when Maka saw an unmistakable head of white hair going the opposite direction. "Hey guys, I'll be right back."

* * *

Soul's blood red eyes opened slowly. He growled at the bright morning light and wiped his mouth. He sat up with a groan when he realized that he fell asleep on the couch. He rubbed his stiff neck and let all of the memories from the day before seep back into his mind.

He sighed and stood up, stretching his arms out next to him. He felt his right arm tingle and turned to see his arm had turned into a blade.

For once, he felt indifferent to it. It wasn't anything to react to anymore, not now that there were more people like himself.

And Maka was pleased that he was a scythe.

Soul shrugged and walked into his bathroom. He paused in front of the mirror. He leaned forward and looked into his own eyes. They seemed to swirl with blood. He bared his teeth. He ran his tongue against the edges lightly, making sure not to cut his tongue.

How could anyone be fine with that?

Soul sighed again and pulled off his shirt. He looked at the mirror again, frowning at his lanky figure. He shifted his arm again, marveling at how his flash melted into metal. He fingered the spot where it changed from blade to shoulder and frowned at how his blade felt. To the pads on his fingers, it felt like metal, but to the blade, it felt like his arm. Or at least like he was being touched.

He wasn't inanimate is what he meant. He still had nerves, somehow.

He turned his arm back with some concentration and finished disrobing. He stepped into the shower.

A week. That's what he was giving this life.

No, he shook his head.

He was sure he was staying here. He couldn't return home, he couldn't return to Cassandra and David.

And he had nowhere else to go.

He had to stay. Besides, he's promised to himself to make his brother proud.

He stepped out and grabbed a towel. He wrapped it around his waist and stepped out of the bathroom, shivering as fresh air hit him. He turned his head both ways, noticing two doors. He walked towards the one on his left and saw a bed and desk. He saw his suitcase on the bed and sighed.

He opened it and frowned at all the dress pants and button up shirts. He needed to get some clothes.

He pulled on some black dress pants and a red button up shirt. He walked out of his apartment and made his way to the plaza, remembering the store he saw yesterday. He shoved his hands in his pant pockets and wandered through the crowd. He heard some yelling but decided to ignore it. He just turned a corner when he felt someone grab his arm.

He turned swiftly to see Maka holding his arm and smiling at him. "Hi Soul. I was calling you."

Soul stared at her. "Just now?"

Maka nodded and laughed a little. "Yeah, two friends of mine and I are going to go eat and I wanted to know if you wanted to join us. I figured if you were only staying for a week we might as well start getting to know each other, don't you think?"

Soul opened his mouth to tell her he decided to stay but she interrupted him. "You _are_ staying right? At least for a week?"

Soul nodded slowly. "Yeah."

She cheered and he found himself smiling at her joy-filled expression.

She looked kind of adorable...

"Let's go then!" She grabbed his arm and pulled him roughly from the plaza. His arm kind of hurt, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything.

She'd seen him, just on the streets, while she was with her friends. And she decided to _invite him. _She didn't know him, owe him anything.

She hadn't even been aware of his decision to stay.

If he hadn't known better, he'd say she was grateful that _he'd_ agreed to be _her_ partner.

That was ridiculous.

* * *

"Who's this, Maka?" Blackstar asked, eyeing Soul with great suspicion.

Because everything he did was great.

"Soul, this is Tsubaki Nakatsukasa." Maka said, gesturing to Tsubaki while ignoring Blackstar completely.

Tsubaki gave him a small smile and waved slightly. He kept his lips pursed together and waved back.

"And this is-"

"AND I AM THE GREAT BLACKSTAR! I, BLACKSTAR, WILL BE THE ONE TO SURPASS GOD AND -"

"MAKA-CHOP!" Blackstar fell to the sidewalk with a groan and a quiet thud. Soul blinked and turned to see Maka holding a book up next to her head. She wiped off the spine and looked at Blackstar out of the corner of her eye. "That's for being an idiot and interrupting me, you moron."

_So much for 'friends'._ Soul thought. But he was actually a bit reassured by her act of violence.

By being able to bring the young, muscled boy to the ground with a mere _book_ she reassured him of her strength. With her lightning fast hit, she reassured him of her speed.

If they were in a fight, they'd be fine. Especially if he could become as good as her.

Jeez, was he looking up to wiry girl who wore her hair in pigtails?

"Blackstar's a meister like me and Tsubaki's a weapon." Maka explained to Soul.

Soul looked at Tsubaki and gave her a small nod. She nodded back and smiled.

In translation: _Nice meeting you._

Maka looked at Soul, wondering why he wasn't talking. He looked a little... tense.

Blackstar stood up and rubbed his head. Soul didn't glance twice at his ocean-blue hair, having peculiar hair himself. "So, like I asked before, who's this?"

Maka turned her attention back to Blackstar and frowned. "You know, you could ask him yourself."

Soul's head snapped to Maka and she caught his gaze. He seemed distressed. She rose a brow but didn't ask anything. "His name's Soul. He just joined the DWMA and he agreed to be my partner for a week."

Soul let out a breath and thanked her with a small smile. She nodded, but her furrowed brow promised an interrogation.

"What type?" Blackstar asked, still eyeing him.

Maka saved him again. "He's a scythe!"

Blackstar grinned and held his hand out. "That's sweet."

Tsubaki sighed and looked at Maka and Soul apologetically. A light flashed around her and soon Blackstar was holding two intimidating blades connected by a chain. Soul blinked. He wondered where in the world people decided to make something like that.

Maka frowned at Blackstar. "You're not going to challenge us, are you?"

Blackstar shook his head. "Nah, that wouldn't be fair. You guys haven't had a chance to fight together yet. I just wanna see how he looks compared to Tsubaki."

Maka looked over at Soul. He wasn't sure. Maka hadn't even seen his weapon form yet, and he remembered the indifference the blonde from his home had given him.

He let out another breath and looked over to Maka with a slight shrug.

She was nervous and slightly excited. She had wanted to acquaint herself with him privately, feeling that to wield someone for the first time was an intimate and special experience.

But this worked too.

She held out her hand and he took it, noticing that her hands were warmer than last time. He closed his eyes and took a breath before feeling the change happen and the unfamiliar warmth of two hands gripping him. This time, instead of pain, he felt a sense of security wash over him.

Maka hummed with appreciation. By the looks of him, you'd think she'd have trouble holding him, but he was light. There was still a comfortable weight in her hands, though, assuring her that he was sturdy. She let her gaze run over the length of him and felt herself grin at the eye next his blade. She could tell he was looking at her, waiting for a reaction.

"Soul, y-"

"Excuse me, if you could please change back into your human forms, we would be very grateful. This is a public restaurant and the sun is glinting off of your blades quite harshly." Maka turned to the manager of the buffet they were at the entrance of and smiled apologetically, gritting her teeth to keep herself from acting immature.

"I apologize. Soul, could you please turn back?"

Soul shifted back into his human form, but kept his hand in hers. He'd forgotten they were in public. Everyone had seen him, and for some reason, he felt that the sun was not the reason for complaints.

She could tell he was uncomfortable now and squeezed his hand reassuringly. She leaned over and whispered in his ear. "You look really cool."

His shoulders dropped in slight relief and he smiled at her. She smiled back and turned to Blackstar who was making a scene. "Blackstar, just let it go. Aren't you _starving_?"

Blackstar grunted and let Tsubaki change back into her human form. Tsubaki apologized profusely to the manager who smiled and said it was fine and the group somehow ended up getting discounts to stop Tsubaki from apologizing.

They all sat down except for Blackstar who immediately went off in search of some food to quell his god-like starvation. The rest of them waited for a waiter to come get their drink orders.

"You don't talk very much." Tsubaki noted aloud, her small smile letting him know she meant no offense.

Maka laughed lightly and Tsubaki looked at her with surprise. "You can't really say anything Tsubaki. You're the quietest person I know."

Tsubaki stared at her with shock a minute longer then giggled. "I guess you're right, Maka."

Soul stared down at the table, letting Maka's hand stay in his. He didn't know why, but he found her presence as reassuring as Wes'.

Maka excused herself to go to the restroom, though, and left Soul alone with Tsubaki. He watched her walk away then slouched in his chair, not meeting Tsubaki's gaze.

"So, how long have you known Maka?"

Soul looked up at her. He kept his mouth closed and shrugged.

"I see... So not long then?"

He shook his head.

"I see..." And they fell into a slightly uncomfortable silence.

Maka returned with Blackstar behind yelling about something or other. None of them could understand him around his mouthful of food.

Maka sat down next to Soul and order restored itself as the meisters talked and Tsubaki added a comment in here and there.

Maka had shot Soul a few concerned glances and he had to remind himself that she didn't know.

And he didn't want her to.

* * *

A/N: Okay! This I finished not long after posting the last chapter, but I had to wait to post it.

I don't like waiting.

I want to thank _samallythesinner_ for reviewing, I'm sure that you have wonderful writing and I'd love to see it sometime, so start planning :)

Also, I was really gushing over your review.

So, everyone else, please review!


	5. Chapter 5

Blackstar leaned back in his chair after eating his fill. He burped and Maka wrinkled her nose.

"Say excuse me."

"You're excused." Blackstar gave her a shit-eating grin.

Maka rolled her eyes and pushed her empty plate away from her slightly then glanced over at Soul who was picking at his food. "You haven't eaten at all..."

Soul glanced up at her and shrugged, unable to explain that it was because he didn't want anyone to see his teeth.

He was starting to regret ever speaking to her, he should have stayed a mute. He should have kept silent and just...

No, he didn't want his partner in battle to believe such a lie.

She decided he either already ate, and was being polite by staying, or he was really uncomfortable around people.

She figured the latter.

She smiled over at Tsubaki and Blackstar. "Hey guys, I'm sorry to leave so soon, but Soul and I have some talking to do. You know, build that soul connection!"

Blackstar shrugged. "Whatever. You can go and bore the crap outta him if you want."

Tsubaki smiled at Maka as she stood up and Soul stared up at her. "Well, are you coming?"

Soul nodded and stood up, putting has hands into his pant pockets. He nodded once to the partners at the table then followed Maka out of the establishment.

Tsubaki turned to Blackstar with a questioning gaze. He lost his playful demeanor and stared after the pair, nodding to Tsubaki's silent question. "Yeah, I saw it too."

Meanwhile, Soul and Maka were heading back towards the plaza. She let out a breath of relief, sensing the tension leave his body as soon as they left her friends. She figured this was a good a time as ever to ask. "So what's wrong?"

Soul glanced at her briefly before returning his gaze to his feet. He shrugged. "I dunno. I'm just not that social."

Maka stopped him as they neared the fountain. "Soul, that was more than anti socialism..."

He shrugged again, frustrating her to no end. But she could understand his hesitation to spilling out his life story.

She sighed quietly. This _would_ be a good time to try and expand their connection. She chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to think of something to say.

As though he read her mind, he saved her by asking his own question, "What are the classes here like?"

She paused and brought a hand up to her chin, comparing the academy to what she'd heard about normal school. "Well, we have kind of the same structure as a normal school, I suppose."

"And what structure would that be?" Soul asked. She glanced at him and he averted his gaze. "Home schooled."

She nodded and linked her hands behind her back as they wandered. "Well, since the students pair up into weapon-meister pairs, the students are broken up into classes. They usually try to make sure all the classes are about the same size. I don't have a weapon yet, so I'm in one of the smaller classes and there are still about forty-five people."

"Damn," Soul breathed. That was a large class... With a lot of people. "Are the class rooms big then?"

She grinned. "They're as huge as a college lecture room."

Soul let out a breath of relief. It should be easier to keep a low profile if the classes aren't cramped.

"Anyways, since you're new and you aren't familiar with our kind of lifestyle, we're probably going to be a little behind the other students. But don't worry, with my help, we'll be hunting pre-kishins with the rest of them in no time!" She giggled with excitement and he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

She smiled sympathetically at him. "I know it doesn't sound so appealing to you, but it's what I've been looking forward to my whole life. You know, my mom's a meister."

Soul's brows rose. He was surprised that she was so forthcoming about her background. And the fact that her mother knew about the life, she still let her daughter join the academy.

He was surprised any of those kids were allowed to battle.

"Yeah, she's amazing. One of the best meisters of her time." She smiled with pride, her eyes softening. "She created the current Death Scythe, you know."

He hummed, not really knowing what she meant but knowing it must be a great accomplishment.

Maka laughed. "Right, okay, I'll explain. A Death Scythe is what a weapon becomes when he or she collect ninety-nine damaged souls and the soul of the witch. That scythe becomes the right-hand of Lord Death himself."

"Cool," Soul says, a small smile on his face. It sounds pretty awesome but, "Ninety-nine souls? That's a little specific."

Maka snorted. "Yeah, I think he's just trying to make things more difficult than necessary. Each soul is supposed to give the weapon more power, and the witch's soul seals it all and enhances it. This way a Death Scythe can be wielded by anyone, even Death himself."

Soul felt his mouth spread into a smile. This was sounding way too cool, way too romanticized.

But hey. It's better than freaking out.

"It's great that you're curious and all, but we're going to learn this in class, and Sid can probably explain better than I can," Maka said, not worried she might mess up some facts, but worried she was explaining it too formally. "So, where are you from?"

"Ontario, Canada," Soul replied. He knew she would question him further, so he turned it on her. "You grew up in Death City?"

"Yup, born and raised. I've never even left the city, but I will soon enough. For missions and such," She explained.

He interrupted her when she opened her mouth to ask him a question, "You said your mom made the current Death Scythe?"

There, she's off his tail and going down Memory Lane. She smiled down at her feet and brushed her bangs to the side. "Yeah. She did it all on her own."

"What about the weapon? Isn't he, or she, part of the team?" Soul asked innocently.

Maka stiffened and stood still. Soul stopped walking and turned back to her to see her hands glued to his sides and her eyes covered by the same bangs that were pushed aside a second ago. "No. The current Death Scythe is worthless."

"Then how'd he become Death Scythe?" Soul asked, wondering what made her mood turn so rapidly.

"Sheer luck," she sneered. "Don't waste your time idolizing him, he's a rotten pervert."

"Do you know him?" Soul knew the apparent disdain she held against this man had to be personal.

She looked up at him and shook her head vigorously, plastering a fake smile on her face. "Oh no, only through my mom. She told me about him."

Soul eyed the clenched hands she held at her sides and the bright smile she was forcing. She was close to breaking, he could tell.

"Are you sure?"

Soul didn't know what compelled him to push her. He knew she was trying to avoid this apparently sensitive topic, but he still did. He tried to take it back, but couldn't bring himself to reopen his mouth. Anything he said now would only make things worse. Soul looked away and waited to be told off.

But she didn't break the way he thought she would.

Maka opened her mouth to tell another lie, only to realize what she was doing.

She was keeping things from her potential partner in battle, and effectively pushing him away. They were _supposed_ to be building up their connection, proving trust.

She took a deep breath. Her hands went limp and her shoulders fell with her smile. "No, actually."

His brows rose with surprise and he met her eyes, encouraging her to continue _sans_ words.

Maka looked around at all the people and looked back at him sheepishly. "Do you mind if we go somewhere private?"

Soul nodded. "We can go to my place. I live alone."

Maka grinned. "That's cool."

Soul smiled and shrugged as they began walking side by side in the direction of his apartment. "I'm cool."

She laughed and elbowed him a little roughly. "Sure you are, cool guy."

* * *

Maka looked around the apartment with awe. It wasn't too odd to see a kid Soul's age living in an apartment without parents around _here_, but usually they had partners to share the rent with. And this apartment was pretty large for a kid on their own.

"How are you going to pay rent?" Maka asked.

Soul paused. "I have some money stowed away..."

Maka smiled and poked him. "You do know we get paid for missions, right? Just another reason for you to be my partner, that's all I'm saying."

Soul grinned at her attempt at subtlety and rose a brow. "We get paid?"

Maka took a breath, thinking of a way to explain it. "Well, Lord Death would call it positive reinforcement. He gives us a budget for each hotel, based on the difficulty, and we get to keep the remainder if we have any. Not to mention he puts a little more than necessary to make us take missions more often. You're only allowed to take missions after the first year though, when they teach you the basics and safety procedures. They make you do a few obstacle courses, then once they've deemed you fit, you can take your first mission! They want to make sure you don't die."

"And we're behind a whole year?" Soul asked, feeling a little guilty for holding Maka back.

Maka rose a hand of dismissal. "Don't worry about it. I'm pretty advanced as far as the textbooks go, and I've done a few practice courses with regular weapons. The only test we have to worried about is when they monitor the way you magnify my wavelength, but I can help you with that. I'd say we'll be taking missions in a few weeks!"

Soul was reassured by her words and decided to get back to the reason they'd come back here in the first place. "So, you wanted to talk."

Maka's mood dropped almost instantly and she let herself flop onto the sofa. She looked up at him and pat the cushion next to her in invitation. He took it and sat down next to her, keeping his gaze on the coffee table in front of him. Maka turned on the sofa, pulling her feet up next to her and facing Soul completely. "The Death Scythe that's currently Lord Death's number one is Spirit Albarn.

"Spirit Albarn was my mom's partner, they fought together for years. They'd met in what would usually be considered highschool, but the academy doesn't have grades. They have levels, one star, two star, three star, and four star. When my mom was a three star meister, she partnered up with Spirit. She was incredibly advanced at her level and was at the top of her class." Maka smiled at this with pride. "I want to be just like her, smart and brave and strong."

Soul smiled and felt himself relating to her. He wanted to be like Wes, however impossible that was. "She sounds pretty cool."

"Yeah. She is..." Maka shook her head a bit and her smile vanished, much to Soul's disappointment. "Anyways, she and Spirit became partners. After she turned him into a Death Scythe, she found that she was in love with him. So she proposed to him, and he said yes."

Soul frowned, sensing the tension building in Maka.

"They got married, and about a year later, they found that they had a baby coming. Let me tell you now, they were nineteen. She was one of the youngest meisters to make a Death Scythe, at seventeen." Maka grinned for a split second before frowning again. "So they had me, and for awhile everything was fine. We were all happy..."

She went silent for a bit, losing herself in her thoughts. He reached over and grabbed her hand. She broke out of her reverie and looked at him. "You don't have to tell me, you know."

Maka shook her head. "No, I do. I need to tell you, for our soul connection."

Soul frowned. This was not coming out for the right reasons. She was opening up out of obligation, out of her sense of duty. "Screw the soul connection. I think you should tell me when you trust me fully."

Her eyes widened and she looked down at their hands. "But..."

"No, you shouldn't feel like you _have_ to tell me anything. It's not right. Besides, I haven't told you anything." Soul smirked. "Equivalent exchange, Maka."

Maka blinked. Soul was right. She was going about this all wrong, there wasn't any trust building. She was just telling him a story.

A sad one, but a story none the less.

She smiled at Soul and let out a breath. "Okay... Okay, let's start off light."

Soul rose a brow, but mirrored her smile. "How do you mean?"

"Just get to know each other a little. Nothing deep." Maka grinned, pushing thoughts of her worthless father to the back of her mind.

Soul grinned back. "Alright... How do we do that?"

Maka shrugged and looked around the apartment. "When'd you get here?"

"Yesterday."

Maka gaped. "Wow. Well, welcome to Death City."

Soul chuckled. "Thanks. Yeah, I haven't gotten to see much of Death City yet. I need to go get some new clothes, so-"

"I can take you! I know Death City like the back of my hand, not to mention I know all of the uniform policies of the DWMA. There aren't many, but still." Maka stood up. "C'mon, I'll show you around _and _we can get you some new clothes."

"How about later? I'm kind of hungry..." His stomach growled loudly as though on cue. Yeah, he hadn't eaten since yesterday at lunch.

Maka laughed, thinking of their time at the buffet. "I wonder why."

Soul frowned and walked over to the door. "You just shut up. I have my reasons."

"Alright, sorry. What'd you eat for breakfast?" Maka asked, following him out the door.

"I didn't." Maka gave him a look and he rose his hands in defense. "I only woke up at eleven."

"We ate at one, Soul." Maka grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the apartment. "Alright, food, clothes, then groceries."

"Groceries?"

"Yeah. We're going to get you stocked up on food." Maka smiled slightly at him. "I can't let my partner starve."

* * *

Maka wrinkled her nose as Soul started on his third roll of sushi.

Soul chewed and swallowed, thankfully, before asking, "What're you looking at?"

Maka pointed at the sushi on his plate with disdain. "That stuff you're eating. It's gross."

"It's food and it's good," Soul said with finality as he continued the roll.

"It's _raw_. And we're in the middle of the desert," Maka gagged a bit. "Who knows if that's even _fish_?"

Soul snorted. "It's called _importing_."

Maka rose a brow. "Then that means it's been sitting for a while."

Soul opened his mouth to retort then sighed and closed it. "Shuddup. Let me eat in peace."

Maka shrugged. "Whatever. I'm not the one who might contract mercury poisoning."

Soul rolled his eyes and leaned back as he finished his food. He pushed his plate away and stifled a burp. She narrowed her eyes at him and he snickered. "S'cuse me."

She gave him a sly smile and put her hand up. A waiter came over and she asked for the check as Soul pursed his lips and looked away. The check arrived and he reached in his pocket for his wallet only to hear a thud on the table. Maka stood up as Soul stared at the cash on the table that she'd laid down. "It was my treat."

Soul pushed the money her way and set down a card on the table face-down. A business card belonging to a certain Evans family. "I got it."

She scoffed. "A card? Soul, the food was fifty bucks, I don't think they'll-"

"It's covered." Soul stood and picked up her money from the table, holding it out to her. "Take. It."

She snatched the money from him with a small scowl. "Fine. I was just _trying_ to be nice, you know."

"Well, I don't need your money," Soul said, trying to get out of the restaurant before the waiter saw the card.

"You're weird." Maka said as he pushed her along.

"Says the girl with pigtails and a chest as flat as a board." Soul said dryly.

"Why you-!" Maka pulled out a book and his eyes widened. "Makaaaaa-"

"U-uh, I was just, um-"

"CHOP!"

She picked up his arm and threw it around her shoulder. She pulled him along as he groaned and rubbed his head. She smiled wryly at him. "Congratulations. You've just received your first chop."

Soul raised a hand in false celebration. "Whoopee."

"Well you shouldn't talk about women like that," she said matter-of-factly.

He pushed himself away from her. "Yeah, got it."

She laughed and started skipping off. "Come on, we have shopping to do! Let's get it done."

Soul found himself smiling despite his irritation. "Fickle girl."

* * *

Soul threw the stuff down with a loud sigh. "Remind me never to go shopping with a girl ever again."

"Hey, I'm not as bad as most. Besides, it's only because you were being indecisive," Maka commented as she set down the stuff she was carrying. She started shifting through the bags and carrying them to the kitchen. "This should hold you off for a few days till we can head out again."

Soul picked up the clothes bags and took them to his room. It was true. It wasn't as though Maka had forced clothes upon him and kept him there for hours. She was trying to help him decide between a shirt and another, and he just couldn't bring himself to give a damn.

So, he'd ended up buying more clothes than he probably needed.

He spent some time hanging up his clothes, assuming that Maka was just packing the food in the fridge.

He hung up his last shirt when he finally realized he could smell food.

_Good_ food.

He wandered out of his room to see Maka in the kitchen, hard at work cutting up vegetables. She looked up and smiled. "I'm just making a few meals so all you have to do is heat them up."

Soul rubbed the back of his head. "You didn't need to do that..."

"I know, but I felt like it." Maka went back to the preparations, flitting from the pots on the stove, to the vegetables on the cutting board, to the oven.

He felt a little lost. And very useless.

But he wasn't gonna do anything about it.

"Well, thanks." He wandered over to the couch and looked over at the TV he hadn't noticed. He reached forward and grabbed the remote on top of the small TV and turned it on. He started flipping through channels, more focused on the drool-worthy smells coming from the kitchen.

He heard the fridge open and a while later close. He heard soft footsteps pad over to the couch then felt the cushions dip a bit. "Ha, are you drooling?"

Soul tensed and rose his hand to his mouth to find that he had, in fact, been drooling. He wiped off the spit and glared at her. "Only cause your food smells."

She smiled. "Thanks, Soul."

He frowned. He'd just insulted her. Pathetically, but still. "What do you mean 'thanks'?"

"You think my food smells nice." She pointed at his mouth. "The drool tells me you wanted to eat it."

He huffed and brought his attention back to the TV only to feel a mug being pushed into his face. He pulled away sharply and turned to her. She was smiling innocently, holing a mug out to him and a mug to herself. "Hot chocolate."

"In the desert?" He took the mug anyways. It smelled _really_ nice.

She shrugged. "It's chocolate and it's good."

He chuckled and they sat there, only the white noise of the TV and their quiet slurps filling the air around them.

* * *

Maka's eyes snapped open. She felt Soul next to her snoring. Maka rose her head from his shoulder slowly and turned to look at him. His mouth was open, and he was drooling. He looked pretty content.

She giggled softly and rolled her shoulders, trying to relieve the stiffness that came from falling asleep on a couch. She stood up slowly and stretched. She tried to scratch her head and cursed inwardly when she felt that her pigtails were still in, and extremely tangled.

She pulled at the band and winced at the pain she felt when she ended up pulling out a few hairs. "Ow..."

She repeated the process with the other tail and sighed in relief as she rubbed out the soreness. She then made her way to his kitchen and grabbed a cup, filling it with some water for her dry throat.

Okay, today's schedule. It was Sunday. There was school tomorrow, and now she had a semi-partner. So, she should probably try to teach him a thing or two today. Maybe try out some of the moves she'd learned with normal weapons. Let's not forget that they had to go shopping again. He desperately needed more utensils and some school supplies.

But before any of that, she had to make sure he ate.

She opened the fridge and grabbed the milk. Huh, it looked a little emptier than it was when she used it last...

She shrugged and pulled out the pancake batter she'd bought. She grabbed a pan from the cupboard above the sink and and a bowl from the one next to it. This place was pretty well-stocked despite the lack of clothes and food. Sure, she'd bought some of the containers, but still.

She started mixing the batter and made a note to herself to make some pancakes from scratch one of these days.

When she was cooking the fifth pancake, she heard some groaning behind her. Maka turned and saw Soul stretching out all four legs from the couch.

"Good morning, Soul!" She giggled when Soul froze and turned to her. She rubbed the back of her head with embarrassment. "I accidentally fell asleep and ended up spending the night. Weird, huh?"

He grunted and rubbed his face. Evidently, he was not much of a morning person. "I need to stop falling asleep on the couch."

She hummed, figuring that trying to engage was just a bad idea. She finished up the last few of the pancakes and put the plate on the small table in the kitchen. "Eat, Soul."

He groaned and walked into the kitchen. "You made food again."

"Yes I did. You can yell at me later for using up your supplies." She pulled two pancakes off of the pile and put them on a plate for herself, then handed Soul a plate and fork. "Have as much as you want, there's more batter left over. I want you to be well-fed."

"Why?" Soul asked, trading his plate for the one with six pancakes on it.

She snickered at his action. "Well, besides the obvious, I kind of wanted to try using your weapon form today. If that's okay with you, I mean."

Soul faltered in his chewing and looked up at her. He shrugged, nodding slowly. "Yeah. Sure."

She grinned and started to cut her pancakes with a fervor. "Great! I wanted to try some of the moves I learned, and maybe see if I can determine our resonance rate. I know this great area in the academy we can go work in, it's pretty private so you don't have to worry about people."

Soul smiled as he ate. She seemed pretty pumped about being able to try him out, and it was kind of rubbing off on him.

Maybe being crazy wouldn't be too bad. Because you'd have to be a little off to look forward to being swung around by an underdeveloped girl.

* * *

A/N: Okay, I know you all hate me, and I know this chapter was not that good. Writer's block is a BITCH. I hate it, it's annoying. But I pushed myself and after awhile banned the use of 'backspace'.

So this is the shit that came out. Next one shouldn't be too far behind, but who the hell knows anymore.

If you looked at my profile, you saw my half-assed apology for being bad at updating. If not, I'll just apologize now: SORRY! It's just, I don't like pushing myself. It makes the writing come out forced and sloppy like this chapter.

But here we are.

Thank you _Guest_ and _Professor Maka _for reviewing, I really appreciate it.

_Guest_: Thanks! Yeah, that's a great idea, I'll see if I can work that in or do something similar. As far as their development goes, I already know that I'm trying to make them shift slowly. I think there was a lot of progress in this chapter already, but I like the idea with the walls breaking. Maybe Kami has a hand in it? Hehe...

Please review!


End file.
